Make a Wish
by Nevillefan
Summary: Sequel to Just Breathe. Reach into your heart and pull out a wish. Is it what you thought it would be? Stop thinking. Blow out the candles and make it come true.
1. Mum's the Word

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter, Jo Rowling does. I also don't own the song Inisheer. I don't know who owns that one. The version I have is done by a band called Buttons and Bows with the accordian and the piano. I only own the plot, Merriment Chocolates, and the song you see later on.

A/N: And now, the sequel to _Just Breathe. __Make a Wish_ takes off where _Just Breathe_ stops but they're two completely different stories that happen to be along the same course of life. Reading them in order is not required to understand each story because they stand alone just fine, but it is preferred...for me. Written pre-HBP. Enjoy. Please leave me a little something behind to remember you by...preferably in the form of a review :)

* * *

**Make a Wish**

Chapter 1 : Mum's the Word

"Stupid prat," she muttered angrily under her breath as she stomped down the stairs of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The dreary burgandy, peeling wallpaper matched Ginny Weasley's mood perfectly at the moment. She wanted to hex her brother, Ron, for being such a stupid idiot but Hermione wouldn't let her. "Should have hexed him anyway," she mumbled spitefully.

_I shouldn't have left her alone with him_, she berated herself for allowing it. Ron was a mental git on a fairly regular basis but this time he had gone too far. Ginny knew he fancied Hermione, even if he didn't know it himself, but he certainly had an odd way of showing it. Ginny had managed to convince Hermione to give into her own feelings for Ron and tell him flat out once and for all. And then _he_ went stupid and messed up the whole plan.

Hermione had broken if off with her absent boyfriend, Viktor Krum, a star quidditch player for the Bulgarian team who had not been around for over a year now. He was a perfectly nice guy but absent just the same. Not being allowed to visit him, and not wanting him to visit her at the headquarters of the war against the Dark Lord Voldemort, Hermione had written him a letter. She felt bad about it enough...she didn't like the idea of not doing such a thing in person and didn't want to hurt his feelings in any way.

Apparently Ron got the wrong impression and thought she was sending him fan mail. Fan mail of all things! Ginny knew it was only jealousy spewing forth with his accusations of Hermione's silly fan mail and love notes. But despite his verbal vomit brought on by a serious case of loving jealousy, he was being stupid and ridiculously rude to Hermione and she didn't deserve it...not after what she did for him.

After a loud row with Ron and calling him for what he was, Ginny had stormed from the room and stalked off to the bedroom that she and Hermione shared. Hermione, however, overheard the shouting match between the two siblings and had stayed behind to try to talk to Ron after Ginny angrily stomped her way to their bedroom. She didn't know exactly what happened after that, but a short time later Hermione came back to their bedroom, furious and crying.

Though still in love with him, her frustration with Ron had been pushed to the limit and she didn't want to have to deal with it anymore. Ginny wasn't really sure why that decision had been made but she had been in the middle of frantically talking Hermione into staying at the house when Ron, having the nerve to look pitiful, knocked on their door. Ginny had tried to talk Hermione into letting her hex him, but Hermione allowed Ron to step inside, regardless of how much of a prat he had been.

And that was the last Ginny knew of it. Now headed away from the bedroom where Ron and Hermione were most likely fighting again, and cursing him for his insolence, Ginny continued down the worn staircase and to the first landing where she almost squealed with delight.

A dripping wet Harry stood at the front door with Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin, who were equally drenched. She practically bounded down the rest of the stairs to greet him but stopped short of plowing into him when she noticed his current appearance.

"Harry, you're soaking wet," she whispered, pointing out the obvious. "Not raining out is it?"

"It is now," Harry answered in an low voice as a well timed round of thunder rumbled past the house. He shook out his hair like a dog that's just had a bath and sprayed Ginny with cold rainwater.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here?" Ginny asked in an excited whisper.

"C'mon you two, don't want to wake the hag," Lupin jerked a thumb at the portrait of Mrs. Black that hung on the wall only a few feet away. Leading the way down the basement stairs to the kitchen, he found Mrs. Weasley with her head bent down and watching a carrot be murdered by a very sharp knife. "Hello, Molly," he greeted pleasantly, taking her attention away from the chopped carrot, "we're back."

"Oh, Remus, Tonks," she wiped her hands on the sides of her apron and smiled widely, "you're just in time for supper. Harry, how nice to see you again!" She pulled him into a tight embrace but immediately backed away from him as her clothes soaked through with rainwater, "Oh, Harry, you're soaking wet! Come, sit by the fire and get warm. Haven't eaten yet, I hope? Go on, tuck in everyone." Mrs. Weasley sat a plate in front of Harry and ladled out the vegetables, as she did for Lupin, Tonks, and Ginny. "Ginny, where's Ron and Hermione?" she asked, just noticing the table was much quieter than it normally should have been.

"Upstairs," she answered simply, a spoon poised precariously to her mouth.

"Well go and fetch them, girl. They'll be wanting to know Harry's here and maybe they'll stop sulking everywhere now."

"Okay, Mum," she easily agreed. "Come with me Harry."

Harry stared at his plate longingly, "But I just got here."

"Come with me Harry," she said more forcefully and looked sternly at him, much like Mrs. Weasley did when there was no room for argument.

Getting the point that he had no choice, Harry took a huge bite of stew and stood up to leave with Ginny. "What's up?" he asked around the chunk of potato he had quickly inhaled as they went up the staircase and into the hall.

"Mum's making me go back up there and I'm afraid to go alone. I think I'm going to need your help on this one, Harry. Goodness knows they won't listen to me. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you but I will anyway." They started up the stairs toward the bedrooms.

Speaking in a low and quick whisper, she explained the situation. "Hermione's in love with Ron. Hermione broke it off with Krum. Ron got the wrong idea and starting acting like a total git. Hermione had it out with Ron and he made things even worse. Just before you came, Ron went to talk to her and that's the last I know of it. If this conversation is half of what the first row was, then I think you're going to have to be the one to talk some sense into those two. I wanted to kill him myself…" Her voice trailed off as they reached the dark and very silent hallway.

"A bit quiet isn't it?" Harry read Ginny's mind. "Are you sure they're in there?"

"That's were I left them… Oh, I hope Hermione hasn't actually gone away." Harry looked to her to explain what this meant, but instead, she pressed an ear to the door, straining to hear inside. "It's too quiet, I can't tell." She sighed in defeat and backed from the door, trying to decide what should be done to find out for sure if Hermione and Ron hadn't killed each other already. She put a hand to the door handle shaped like a snake and slowly turned.

Inside, the two candles sitting on the bedside cuboard cast a dim orange light across the dark room and they peered inside to search for remaining signs of life. Finally, Ginny tugged on Harry's sleeve and drew his attention to the far side of the room by the wardrobe where they saw Ron and Hermione kissing at length, oblivious to the world around them. Ginny looked to Harry with wide eyes to make sure he was seeing the same thing. He confirmed it by looking back at her with equally wide eyes, then both looking back at the sight.

Feeling as though he had just invaded their privacy, Harry motioned for Ginny to close the door. "Well, I wasn't expecting that but it's about time they got it over with anyway."

"I think she forgave him," Ginny laughed. "Did you and Cho kiss like that?"

Harry's green eyes became saucers again and hastily shook his head, making his damp hair stick up in strange places, "Not like that, no! Let's go back downstairs, they'll be fine and I'm starving." The rumble in both their stomachs agreed with that notion and they set off back to the kitchen.

As they came down the stone steps they could hear Tonks complaining about how they needed a new driver for the Knight Bus. Harry sat back down in his seat by the warm fire and began stuffing down his stew once again.

Ginny was about to take her seat across from Harry when Mrs. Weasley spoke up. "Well, did you talk to them? I bet they were glad to see Harry."

"We um—didn't get a chance to talk to them, Mum. They were…er..." she looked to Harry and gave him a cheeky grin, "...preoccupied."

Mrs. Weasley, being the mother of seven—two of those being the most mischievous twins in all of history—didn't miss the smile Ginny was blatantly advertising. "What's going on?" she asked suspiciously, looking back and forth between them for an answer.

"It's not us," Harry blurted out and shot Ginny a furtive look of his own, causing the two to burst into unconcealed sniggers.

"What do you…?" Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed off as she suddenly had a realization and gasped with a hand to her mouth. She wasted no time in making her way across the tiny kitchen toward the doorway.

Ginny, who was closer to the doorway than her mother was, blocked the way through. "No, Mum. You can't go up there."

"But—but—" Mrs. Weasley stammered with wide eyes, still trying to get past her daughter.

"You don't want to go up there right now, Mum," she insisted firmly, still blocking the doorway.

"But—but—what if—" she continued to stammer.

"They're behaving themselves. Just let them alone for a while. And you two," she pointed a finger at the twins, "leave them alone as well. I don't think we were supposed to have seen."

"Furthest thing from our minds," answered Fred but had to nudge his brother in the ribs, who hastily nodded in agreement.

A bit pale faced, Mrs. Weasley traveled heavily back to her chair and sat with a tired plop. "But Ron and Hermione?" she thought aloud. "Oh, goodness, I never even thought about it…although it certainly does explain a lot. Of course it all makes sense now that I think about it, but I guess…Well, I suppose," she looked at Harry guiltily, "I'd always thought it would be iHarry/i and Hermione."

"Everybody seems to think that," Harry interjected dryly, stabbing at a potato.

"Sorry, Harry dear," she shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "you two just seemed to get along better is all. Ron and Hermione are bickering all the time. Oh. Never mind, it explains that too," she hastily shook her head, trying to rid herself of whatever thoughts had managed to creep into her protective mind. "So Harry, tell us about the trip, was it okay?" she tried awkwardly to change the subject.

"About as well as a ride on the Knight Bus could be. Ernie still can't drive."

"I was just telling Molly about that," replied Tonks, who stabbed rather forcefully at whatever vegetable was unfortunate to befall her pointed utensil.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ginny asked bluntly. "I thought you were supposed to stay at your aunt and uncle's."

Harry laughed loudly, "Nice to know I'm wanted."

"You know what I mean," she lightly slapped his arm as she came back around to take her seat at the table.

"Got the boot again. Not really surprised though," he shrugged. "Lasted about as long as I usually do. I sent Hedwig with a letter saying what happened and fifteen minutes later Tonks and Lupin Apparated to collect me. The Knight Bus dropped us off a couple of blocks away and we walked the rest of the way in the rain, started pouring down rain just as we came to the street."

"Did you get our presents?" Ginny asked eagerly.

Harry swallowed his bit of carrot. "Yes, I did thanks. I love the wand servicing kit you sent," causing Ginny to beam proudly.

Several minutes of such dinner conversation later, they heard footsteps coming down the flight of stone steps. Hermione and Ron had decided to grace them with their presence, holding hands.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked the instant she crossed the threshold and saw him sitting at the table. "What are you doing here? What—"

She was sharply cut off by Ginny, "Never mind Harry. What's this?" she indicated the two holding hands. There was a tense silence between them all before Ginny finally demanded, "Well?"

Hermione's cheeks successfully blushed pink and Ron's ears turned red, but Hermione answered. "Um...we…" well, she tried to answer but stammered instead and her cheeks flushed horribly with embarrassment.

"We're a couple now," Ron blurted gracelessly, "as if Ginny hasn't already told you what was going on."

"Oh, how wonderful," Mrs. Weasley smiled brightly, as if this was the first she'd heard of it. "Ginny told us isomething/i but we didn't know you had decided to be a couple though," she said truthfully as she got out two more plates and filled them with stew. "Sit down you two, you must be starving."

Hermione's blush darkened as she and Ron sat and Mrs. Weasley thrust plates in front of them. True to their word, neither Fred nor George had said a word to help embarrass their brother. Instead, they talked between themselves about something they had covertly named "Plan B."

"Harry, you haven't told us why you're here!" Hermione said excitedly.

Ron didn't say anything as both his cheeks were stuffed with food but he managed to nod his head.

"They chucked me out," he answered vaguely.

Ron didn't bother swallowing first, "'Gan? I 'ow?"

"Er, Hermione," Harry started cautiously and shifted uncomfortably in his wooden seat. "You know those chocolates you gave me? Dudley—" Hermione stopped glaring at Ron for his rudeness to gasp and put her hands to her mouth. "He found them in my room and you know how I told you he's supposed to be on a diet…"

"Oh, no, he didn't!"

"He did. Locked the door and ate the whole box alone in his room in one sitting."

"Oh, no!" Hermione gaped at him, horror-struck. "Harry, that was enough to last you about a straight month! I can't imagine what the whole box would do! Oh, Harry, I am so sorry!"

"What's so special about chocolates?" Ron asked with a mouth slightly less ful of food. Having not eaten much in two days he was already stuffing down another plate of vegetables.

Ginny answered for him, "They were Merriment Chocolates. Pre-filled with laughter potion."

"When Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon found him laughing uncontrollably, the only thing he could squeak out was my name and they automatically thought I had done something to him. Of course, being who they are, they wouldn't listen to me and told me to get out, even Aunt Petunia because I'd hurt her poor Duddykins."

"Harry, I am so sorry," Hermione apologized again. "I never imagined he would get a hold of them."

"Don't apologize, Hermione. It was the best fun I'd had all summer, completely worth it. He was still laughing hysterically when I went out the door. If you ask me, you couldn't have given me a better birthday present." He smiled broadly as he reflected on the sight of the red-faced, fat lump collapsed on the floor in a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

Hermione managed a small smile but felt bad for causing Harry to be kicked out again when he was supposed to be staying at home.

~*~

Stuffed full, the four of them manually heaved Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage from its spot on the wet rug in the entryway, up the stairs, and into Ron's bedroom. They sat on the two beds breathing like mad, having carried an over-stuffed trunk up two flights of stairs without magic. Hermione collapsed beside Ron on his bed while Harry sat next to Ginny on the other bed that would be Harry's for the rest of the summer. They spent the next hour talking and laughing as though they had never been separated and Harry did an impression of Dudley under the influence of chocolates.

"Fred and George would be proud of you, Harry," said Ron. "I remember hearing about the ton-tongue toffee they slipped him. Wish I'd stayed to see it."

"So when exactly did this all happen?" Harry asked indicating how close Ron and Hermione were sitting.

"Just tonight," answered Ron grabbing Hermione's hand and smiling stupidly.

"It's about time," said Harry. "I was wondering when you two were going to get around to it."

Ron looked shocked. "What? You knew?"

Harry ignored him. "Just so you know, Hermione, I was this close to telling Ron for you if you didn't tell him flat out this year." Hermione glared dangerously at Harry. "Don't give me that look; you know very well we don't speak 'female.' You have to tell us straight off or we don't have a clue. I don't know how you expected Ron to pick up on it when I couldn't even figure out Cho."

"Obviously you picked up on it."

"Yes, but I wasn't the one you were aiming for."

Hermione, for once, had nothing to say to this and laughed at the irony of it. Ron, however, continued to stare at Harry as though he were a traitor for not telling him about Hermione's interest in him.

There was a tense silence after that, each trying to avoid an unpleasant subject that couldn't be avoided for long. Hermione suddenly became very serious and asked the forbidden question on everybody's minds. "How are you holding up, Harry?"

Harry felt his Adams apple tighten and his heart dropped into his stomach. For the first few seconds he felt angry for Hermione's question but knowing they had his best interest at heart, he didn't stay angry for long and answered honestly, "I've been better."

He examined his fingernails and picked a bit of lint from his shirt. "It's strange being back here without him, you know. It was bad before...but now it just feels so empty. It's funny, I know he's gone but I half expected to see him sitting in the kitchen tonight when I came downstairs. I knew he wouldn't be there but I looked anyway."

"I did the same thing when we first got back," Ginny confessed, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. Harry looked at her appreciatively. He had been sure he would have been the only one to do this and was glad he was not alone, though he did not intend to tell his friends exactly how bad he'd been feeling.

He didn't like being back at this house. It felt wrong to be here now that Sirius was dead. It felt especially wrong to be in his godfather's house as though nothing had happened… being happily welcomed back into the house of the man who's death was his responsibility felt unnerving and immoral.

Ron quickly changed the subject, "Now look, your birthday's tomorrow so be prepared for a party. Mum never lets a birthday go uncelebrated. She's the first one up and making breakfast and then there's the party later. Eight birthdays a year and she hasn't missed a one as far as I can remember. Well, except her own which she tends to forget and we have to bake a cake and everything. Can you see six brothers in one kitchen who know nothing about actual baking? It's not funny, Hermione, the cake is usually lopsided, icing dripping off, and there's always a food fight. You don't leave the kitchen without being covered in flour and egg in your ears. Then Dad brings home one of those muggle candles that doesn't blow out!"

"Thanks for the warning," Harry chuckled.

"I can't wait, I just love birthday cake," Hermione said.

"Get ready for a Weasley birthday, mate," Ron said while rubbing his hands together eagerly, as though warming them from non-existent cold.

Hermione let out a great yawn, "Oh, I think that's my cue to go to bed. You coming, Ginny?"

"Yeah," Ginny nodded, not really all that sleepy, "be there in a minute."

As Hermione stood up, Ron followed and offered her his arm, "Shall I walk you to your door my love?"

"You shall," and she stood up on her tiptoes to reach him for a kiss. "See you tomorrow, Harry."

Ginny and Harry watched the two of them leave arm in arm and she couldn't stop herself from declaring dryly, "That's going to get old really fast."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, but for the time being, they aren't bickering."

"Enjoy the piece while you have it. I give them three days before it's gone."

"You think it'll be that long? I'm going for tomorrow morning. But they've got a lot of missed time to make up for, I think we can stand a little mushiness for a while. Four years is a long time."

"Yes it is," she said softly, then immediately brightened. "It's good to have you back, Harry."

"Good to be back," he replied as he smiled back at her.

Ginny suddenly stood up, making the mattress bounce a bit. "Guess I better get to bed, too!" Harry noticed she was blushing slightly but pretended not to notice though he wasn't sure what he had done to make her blush. "Lots of juicy gossip to go and collect."

"Share it with me tomorrow?"

She shook her head, "Sorry, Harry, but that is confidential information released only to other girls."

"See how you women expect us to understand you when you never tell us anything?" he smiled widely.

"Forget it, Harry," Ginny giggled. "Besides, I'm sure you wouldn't be very interested in what we talk about behind your backs anyway."

Harry was about to inquire on this further but she said goodnight and left the room. Ron soon replaced her lost presence in the room, a sappy grin on his face.

~*~

Hermione and Ginny laid under their covers, sitting up on their elbows; a single candle was lit on the bedside cupboard between them.

"So details," Ginny demanded.

"He's a really good kisser," Hermione answered dreamily.

"Ew, Hermione, please, he's my brother! I meant what did he say to you?"

Instead of answering, she said, "Are you sure he's never kissed anyone before?"

"I'm sure you'd be the first to hear if he had."

"Good point, you're probably right."

"I wonder if Harry's a good kisser," Ginny wondered aloud.

"You know," Hermione grinned cheekily, "there's only one way to find out." Ginny flushed scarlet and hit Hermione with her pillow. "Still, I wonder, if Ron's a good kisser already, without previous experience…I can't wait till he's had a bit of practice!" Hermione's eyes widened at this realisation and sent both girls into hysterical laughter.

"So what's it like?"

"Kissing? You never kissed Michael when you were with him?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders, embarassed, "Never got around to it."

"Well," she thought a moment, "it's hard to explain. It's kind of wet," she said thinking about what Harry had said about this kiss with Cho, but then saw Ginny begin to giggle and quickly added, "but a good wet. It was passionate and hungry, yet gentle and tender at the same time," she said in a dreamy voice. "He was strong, and fiery, and vulnerable, and safe, and warm, and electrifying…and…and…amazing," she finished breathlessly dramatic.

"You can't feel all that at once, you'll explode!" Ginny said laughing.

"Mmm. Yes, but it's a good sort of explode." She shivered at the memory, making Ginny laugh all the harder. "Oh, Ginny, I shall have a restless sleep tonight."

"Yes, well keep your dreams to yourself while you sleep." Ginny leaned over and blew out the nighttime candle light. "I still see him as the brother who shoots milk out his nose when he laughs if you time it just right."

"Now there's a nice image just before bed."


	2. A Very Weasley Birthday

Chapter 2 : A Very Weasley Birthday

True to Ron's word, the next morning Mrs. Weasley was the first to wake and cooking a fantastic breakfast. Harry opened the door in the hall that led to the basement and was greeted with the aroma of freshly baked bread, bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, strawberry and blueberry muffins, and what Harry thought to be maple syrup. He felt almost as if he were drifting down the stone steps guided only by his nose, rather than actually walking.

"Good morning, Harry!" She pulled him into another bone-crushing embrace and wished him a happy birthday with a kiss on the top of his messy bed-head. "Hungry I hope?"

Without waiting for an answer, she piled four eggs, a load of potatoes, and a pile of bacon on his plate along with two slices of toast and butter and a muffin. Not a free spot was to be found on his plate, heaping items piled on top of one another. He had thought Ron was exaggerating just a little when he wouldn't stop talking about the feast that awaited them in the morning.

Ron followed soon after, inhaling the great smell as Harry had done, "Ah, I love birthdays! Mum always does her best cooking on birthdays," he said as he took a chair across from Harry.

"And what exactly are you implying I do for the rest of the days between, Ronald Weasley?" She loaded Ron's plate with food the same as she had done for Harry. "I hope you're all right with a party, Harry. We don't have any presents for you and I wasn't sure how you were used to celebrating yours."

"Oh, don't worry about presents, Mrs. Weasley," Harry answered with a mouthful of eggs. "The most I ever got from the Dursley's was a used pair of Uncle Vernon's socks and that was the last time they even bothered to remember my birthday. I've never had a party before," he stuffed a load of potatoes into his mouth. "Dudley had the parties but I was allowed a piece of cake if I didn't spill the coffee. Once on Dudley's birthday I even got to go to the zoo with them, but that was only because they had nothing else to do with me--" He stopped rambling as he noticed the horrified gaze Mrs. Weasley was fixing upon him. She looked fit to burst into tears.

Instead she took a deep breath and stuck out her chin in defiance of the Dursley's offensive ways, "Well, you're going to have one today."

"Yeah, Weasley style," Ron added with a mischievous grin. "I love birthdays."

Moments later George and Fred came bounding into the room. "Who's birthday is it?" asked Fred, eagerly rubbing his hands together and George came around to his mother and stole a piece of bacon from the pan. Mrs. Weasley slapped his hand away, but he also managed to nick a chunk of uncooked potato behind her back and toss Fred a tomato.

"Harry's," Ron answered around the fried egg he had shoved in.

"Wicked!" said George. "Now we get to have nine parties a year instead of just eight!"

Harry was beginning to get the idea this would be nothing he was used to at the Dursley's. There was no Dudley to crash the table if he didn't get enough presents, no beatings if the toast was burnt or if the coffee wasn't brought right away. They all seemed terribly excited about the coming party, moreso than a simple birthday song and cake should create.

"Aren't you two supposed to be at the shop?" said Ron through another mouthful of food, having not taken a moment to breathe after the last bite.

"We're not due out there for another half-hour," George successfully claimed his own slice of bacon from the pan, "and we're hungry."

"We're only here for a short visit and then we're off," said Fred. "We have things waiting for us back at the shop that we need to get back to anyway."

Ginny and Hermione soon followed the twins' descent on the stairs, relishing the mixture of heavenly scents. They were still half asleep and still in their night dresses and dressing gowns, hair sticking up in every way possible and Harry couldn't help laughing to himself.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Hermione called out from the other side of the room and came to sit beside Harry and gave him a tight hug.

Ginny was about to do the same but instead, yelped out a cry of surprise when Fred grabbed her hands and pulled him to her for a dance. "Ready for a birthday party, Ginny?" he asked while engaging her in a complicated, fast paced sort of jig to nonexistent music.

"Always ready, Fred Weasley," she answered laughing and twirling, stomping her slippered foot and clapping in time with Fred to some song that only they could hear, never missing a beat with him. "Will we be seeing you there?"

"Wouldn't miss it," he answered breathlessly and sent her on another set of dizzying spins, "be right out after we close up."

Having never seen this sort of dancing, Harry watched, fascinated by the sight. The only dancing he'd ever experienced was at the Yule Ball, which was nothing like this. The Dursley's never approved of dancing and Harry was exposed to it as little as possible.

"That's enough, you two!" Mrs. Weasley called over the noise, banging her wooden spoon hard on the cauldron hanging in the fireplace. "Save it for tonight. Your father's going to stop off at the Burrow before coming here so he can pick up all your things, so if you two," she pointed at Fred and George, "see Bill at Diagon Alley you tell him to come right out."

"Right Mum," George obliged. "C'mon, Fred, we should get there early." Fred agreed and they vanished with a loud crack.

Ginny sat at her patiently waiting pile of food beside Ron, but realized that two pairs of eyes were watching her. "What is it?" she said self-consciously and turned a bright shade of pink.

Hermione spoke up, "Where did you learn to do that?"

"Learn what?"

"I've seen dances like that at festivals and on the telly, but that was amazing. I didn't know you could really dance like that," Hermione said still staring at Ginny open mouthed.

"What do you mean, Hermione? Like what?"

"Ginny and Fred are the best dancers in the family," Ron proudly admitted.

"No, I'm not," she replied trying to be modest. Hermione had turned her attention away, but Ginny still felt another pair of eyes burning into her and turned to Harry, "What?"

Harry realized he'd been staring and turned his gaze away, embarrassed at his rudeness, though he continued to watch the image of her dancing run through his head.

"She lies. She really is the best of all of us," Ron added to his previous statement.

"Watch it or I'll have to embarrass you tonight," Ginny poked her brother playfully with an index finger.

"You won't have to; I seem to manage that part all on my own, but thanks for the offer to lend me reasons to blame it all on you. Besides, you'll be able to embarrass Harry then."

"Me?" Harry was ripped from his daydream, "Why me?"

"You're going to have to dance to iInisheer/i with Ginny tonight."

"Oh, no, I forgot about that," Ginny mumbled, looking down at her plate.

Harry panicked, "What?! I can't dance! Ron, you saw me at the Yule Ball—"

Hermione cut him off, "I saw you and thought you did just fine."

"But I can't do ithat/i!" he pointed to the general area in which Ginny and Fred had been jigging.

"She wouldn't make you do that kind of thing straight off, mate. She's not that cruel."

"You won't have to dance with me, Harry," Ginny assured him.

"Yes he does, Ginny, it's tradition. The youngest daughter always dances the first song with the guest of honor. And the first song is always iInisheer/i."

"It is inot/i tradition! You guys made that up and I just started going along with it!"

"You've been doing it eight birthdays a year for the past eleven years straight. It is too!" Ron wasn't backing down just because she didn't want to dance with Harry.

"I was four years old! Everybody thought it was cute!"

"She's right, it was a lot cuter when she was a little girl," Ron teased. "I don't know what we'll do with her now that she's all grown up."

"We're going to stop this silly itradition/i, that's what we'll do."

"No we're not," he shook his head defiantly.

Mrs. Weasley stuck her head into the conversation. "May I offer a compromise? Harry dance with Ginny and Ron can dance with Hermione so that Harry doesn't feel like everyone's looking at him and it can be Ron and Hermione's first dance as a couple. iInisheer/i is just a waltz, Harry, and quite short. Nothing complicated. Now eat up you lot, you know you won't be eating again till the party."

When nobody bothered to protest (Ginny sighed in defeat and Harry was too wide-eyed to form proper speech patterns), she bustled back to the fireplace oven, leaving the four of them to wallow in their defeated arguments and bountiful breakfast.


	3. The Dance

Chapter 3 : The Dance

After a full day of Ron and Ginny's excitement and Mrs. Weasley's frantic bustling about the kitchen, Harry's anticipation of things to come had grown into a nervous twiddling that was currently being transfered to his fingers. He didn't like being the center of attention and you couldn't be closer to the center than by having your mere existence be the reason for a party. He knew there was no rational reason for being nervous--these people were practically family--but he wriggled his fingers just the same. Eventually, he managed to convince himself that it was due to a mixture of self-conscious jitters and hunger.

His stomach growled in hearing his mind think of food. They were in the basement setting up the kitchen, surrounded by food that played teasing games with his taste buds. The table had been moved against the wall and filled with the previously mentioned tasties and drinks, and Mr. Weasley had put an expanding charm on the room that provided them with loads more floor space. Having his message delievered properly, Bill had come straight out instead of stopping by the Burrow, as Fred and George had done, for whatever party equipment the Weasley's usually required.

Harry's attention wandered to Remus Lupin, who was standing alone in a corner and waiting patiently to be given something productive to do. Casually leaning with a shoulder to the wall, he took a long draught of butterbeer and surveyed Mrs. Weasley fussing over the table full of food. The overall air of the kitchen was light and jovial as Mrs. Weasley, with the help of Ron and Ginny, brought out the cake and sat it in the middle of the table. Ron and Ginny kept bouncing around like small children at Christmas even through Mrs. Weasley's cry for a single moment of silence.

This brought a smile to Harry's nervous face and helped relax him, though his fingers continued to move on their own accord.

Lupin came to sit in a chair beside Harry and handed him a butterbeer. Gratefully, Harry's wobbling fingers accepted the bottle of warm liquid and he took a calming sip and a deep breath.

"It won't be that bad, you know," Lupin said with a small smile.

"I haven't been this nervous since the Yule Ball," Harry admitted more to himself than Lupin.

"Nervous about dancing with Ginny?"

Harry absently swirled his drink around in its container, " 'Spose a little...nervous in general, I guess. I don't like being the center of attention. I don't like people looking at me..."

"I know what you mean. Your father and Sirius were always looking for ways to make sure they were the center of everyone's attention, but I never liked it for myself."

Harry could hear the sadness in his voice as Lupin took a walk down the Maurader's memory lane. With another long draught from his bottle, Lupin suddenly smiled broadly as he looked at Harry. "Happy birthday, Harry."

Harry returned his smile but their conversation was cut short when Mr. Weasley arrived to the kitchen door with party equipment. Lupin gave him another encouraging smile before standing to help tune the instruments that had been brought.

As informed by Ron, Harry had learned new things about his friends he had never even considered before. Mr. Weasley played the fiddle, Lupin played the mandolin--apparantly the learning of this instrument was ordered by one James Potter during a scheme to win over a very stubbourn Lily Evans in their seventh year--and Bill could play the muggle washboard. Harry couldn't wrap his mind around how an old-style muggle washboard could be an instrument but Mr. Weasly insisted it made a most interesting sound. Ron also said that George could play the tin whistle like no other.

Mrs. Weasley held up a hand and motioned for quiet and the room fell silent. "Fred and George will be along in a while but we should start now before it gets too late. Now, we have a few guests who are not accustomed to our traditions so please don't think us too abnormal if we start doing something a bit odd. Arthur, if you would get the lights?"

With a wave of his wand, all the candles along the walls extinguished themselves so the only light came from the fireplace. A brilliant light burst from the end of the room by the table. Sixteen small candles burned brightly from two tiers of brightly colored icing. Mrs. Weasley ushered Harry over to the cake.

"Make a wish, Harry," she whispered in his ear.

Harry had never heard Aunt Petunia telling Dudley a similar saying but he had learned it's meaning from sources of which the Dursleys would surely disapprove.

But a wish of his very own? The more he tried to think of what he could possibly want, the more his brain wiped itself clean of all thought.

Obviously wishes like the end of world hunger or world peace were not meant for sixteen burning birthday candles. Those were wishes made when one wanted to appear selfless and benevolent, not for times when one was about to stuff his face with cake and sweets. He had to wish for something obtainable. The new Firebolt 300, perhaps, or simply the non-material wish of having a successful party where he didn't make a fool of himself. Or for the people he loved to stay safe in this time of war.

Looking around behind him he saw Hermione and Ron in the shadows standing close together, fingers entwined. In the years past he had caught Hermione sneaking glances at Ron in a way that was different from the way she looked at Harry. Ron had not been oblivious to her feminine wiles, more like in complete denial. And as far as Ron went, what was perfectly obvious to Harry seemed to be completely lost on Hermione. Two lovers walking a parallell path, never crossing. It was about time they put a kink in their roads and met up.

Would that be his way as well? Was there someone else walking along beside him the whole time and he's just never stopped to notice?

Maybe he could just blow out the candles now and save the wish for later. Nobody would be any the wiser if he pocketed his wish, appease the waiting masses for now and think on his selfish desires sometime afterwards. Mrs. Weasley was happily fanning her hands about, encouraging him to get on with it. Ginny stood off to the side beside Lupin, smiling her bright smile at him, causing him to stupidly grin back.

Turning back around, he took a deep breath and blew hard. One candle at the top flickered teasingly but remained lit and a chorus of laughter broke out behind him.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley yelled exasperatedly.

"I couldn't help it," Mr. Weasley answered, chuckling from a corner made even darker by the lack of light previously brought forth by fifteen small candles. "I found it in the drawer while I was at the Burrow this afternoon."

"Tried to warn you, Harry," came Ron's voice from somewhere in the dark. "It's that muggle candle that doesn't blow out. We love seeing Mum fight with it."

Mrs. Weasley tried to wave her wand at the candle but it only flickered in response. Several more times she tried without success when, finally giving up, she picked the candle out of the icing and threw it into the fireplace while everybody cheered. Lupin relit the wall candles with a wave of his wand and the room filled with proper light once more.

Lupin and Mr. Weasley took this as their cue to begin playing. It was a slow and sweet song, a waltz. Ginny, knowing her role, stood and took Harry's shaking hand in hers and put his other hand to her waist and began to move. Hermione and Ron were doing the same.

Waltzing had been permanently drilled into his head his fourth year for the Yule ball, so whilst he was not very proud of his dancing skills (or lack thereof), it wasn't long before Harry relaxed and stopped standing on Ginny's foot to perform the correct steps. Ron, who had already done this many times with Ginny, had no problems with Hermione.

"Not so bad is it?" she said in a low voice that no one else could hear. "Sorry you have to do this."

"No, don't be sorry. I'm glad I could dance with you. I'm the one who should be sorry, I'm going to break your foot."

Ginny laughed. "Don't exaggerate, you're doing fine. Ready?"

"For what?"

"The song's ending, don't forget to bow."

Without warning, she released his shoulder and used his other hand to spin herself as she gracefully turned the spin into a low curtsey, forcing him into a polite bow as the last note played and the crowd cheered. Harry brought his eyes up to meet hers.

"Enough with the mushy slow stuff!" George, having arrived from the burrow, suddenly bellowed from the kitchen doorway, startling everybody.

"Let's pick it up!" Fred followed his twin through the kitchen door. Mr. Weasley tossed George the tin whistle and he began a fast-paced solo. Soon after Mr. Weasley, Lupin, and Bill with his rusty washboard joined in and Mrs. Weasley took a turn on the flute.

The kitchen erupted into a chaos of music and movement. Fred stole Ginny away from Harry and led her through a heart-pounding jig similar to the one at breakfast. Ron was busy trying to teach Hermione what looked to be quite a complicated step, though simpler than what Fred and Ginny were now accomplishing. Harry sat down in a chair by the table, intending to eat something and satisfy his talking stomach.

But instead of eating, Harry found himself busy watching Ginny. When she looked over to him and saw him watching she smiled, then Fred pulled her away into another series of spins as the music reverberated off the stone walls.

She really is a wonderful dancer, he thought as he watched her move about the floor. Her calf length witch's dress flared out when she twirled and her fiery red hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head that was gradually falling out of place. Harry noticed a trickle of sweat bead its way down from her brow as he watched her laughing face.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, watching, lost in thought when he heard somebody calling his name. It was Ginny standing before him trying to get his attention. He locked eyes with her and saw her staring expectantly at him, smiling happily.

"Come dance with me, Harry."

"What about Fred?"

"Harry, I have no partner. He's left me to join the band," she giggled and pointed to Fred playing a pair of clanging spoons. She offered him her hand.

"But I can't dance!" Harry panicked.

"Oh, don't be silly, Harry." She grabbed his wrist and pulled him up, "All you do is jump around like an idiot and spin until we get sick. C'mon, this is your party and you will enjoy it!"

"I was enjoying it…over there…watching you."

Not sure what he had meant by that, Ginny chose to ignore it and forcefully pulled him away from the safety of the table just as the last song was ending. During the pause she took Harry's hand and put it to her waist and her hand to his shoulder, their opposite hands folded in each other, just as they had done for the waltz, and for half a second, Harry thought he was going to be safe.

Mr. Weasley's fiddle and George's whistle proved him wrong as they began another lively song, though not as fast as the previous one. Ginny didn't move and Harry looked at her for the problem. She was busy tapping her foot loudly on the stone floor… She grinned impishly at him. He looked to Ron who was also standing still, tapping his foot but Hermione seemed more accepting of this.

As if he could read Harry's thoughts Ron looked over his shoulder at him, "They're building up the tension for the music. In a minute the rest will join in and we'll go," and turned back as if this explained everything.

The fiddle and whistle continued for several more beats before Ginny tapped his shoulder with her resting fingers, "Get ready, don't be nervous, and just have fun," she smiled cheekily at him again. "C'mon, tap your foot too."

Harry did as he was ordered, keeping time with her.

The music began to slow as if to end but Ginny continued to look at him and said quietly, "I'll tell you when to go."

The song slowed to a quiet stop. Four beats later, Ginny gave Harry a little nod to warn him of what was coming.

Two more beats later, Ginny, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley's all shouted as one, "NOW!"

There was a flurry of movement as the room exploded with a sudden burst of energetic music complete with spoons, washboard, mandolin, flute, fiddle, and tin whistle while Ginny led the way over the floor. Harry tried to keep up with her but found that all the bouncing was making it hard to watch her feet.

"Don't think, Harry!" she shouted over the instruments. "You can do this, I know you can!"

With a renewed confidence, Harry found himself joining in with her and not stepping on her once. His heart pounded furiously and his breath was beginning to be hard to find.

"I told you!" she yelled and laughed at the same time. "Now you lead," she ordered with a breathless voice that had to yell over the noise. Ginny saw doubt and fear cross his face once again. "You can do this, Harry," she repeated, then added, "I trust you."

With this confession, Harry took control and directed Ginny through a series of spins and then with his hand on her waist again he pulled her to him tightly and twirled her around.

They both laughed and the music began to pick up pace. Harry could feel his hair start to matte down on his forehead with sweat and as he watched Ginny keeping up with him, her own damp hair falling out of its bun.

Harry's stomach no longer spoke to him and he now knew why they had been denied food all afternoon. He was glad he hadn't eaten after all because he was sure it would have been thrown right out of him.

Harry felt that his heart would soon burst from his chest or his legs might fall off if the song didn't end soon. He didn't understand how Ron and Ginny could do this all night long, but at the same time, he didn't want it to stop.

The song did eventually come to an end and all four dancers stood panting and clapping happily. Harry wondered if somebody had performed the jelly-leg jinx on him while he wasn't looking.

They heard George catcall at Harry from his corner. "Hey, Fred, I think you have competition!" he exclaimed.

"Excuse me, everyone!" Fred proclaimed lavishly. "The band is going to take a little break and when we return I will reclaim my title as best dancer and show Harry the true meaning of shame."

"Not possible, Fred," Ginny challenged, "I'd like to see you top that!"

"Be careful what you wish for, my dearest sister! You need to rest up if you want to keep up with me!"

The four of them gratefully took seats, breathing heavily, and Hermione handed out a round of butterbeers.

After she caught her breath, Ginny spoke, "I've always loved that song."

"Ron was telling me about it earlier," said Hermione, "though I can't say I was expecting it to be so lively."

"What was that part at the beginning?" Harry asked.

"It's a story song," answered Ginny, "one of the oldest, I think. It tells about how muggles tried to stomp out magic—"

Ron took over the story, "That's the foot tapping thing--it also represents the people of old magic waiting impatiently. The music stops for when the muggles thought they had gotten rid of us, but they couldn't and no matter what has been turned our way we will never go away and stay stronger than ever," Ron finished.

"That's when the music picked back up again, the more we stick together the stronger we become," Ginny explained. "That's what it's about anyway but the real meaning is that through family, determination, perseverance, trust, and love we can achieve anything."

A short time later they saw Remus Lupin and the rest of the Weasley's stand up to return to their instruments. Fred, however, came to steal Ginny away. They tried to insist on Harry dancing again but he wanted to stay behind for a while and dance more in a bit. Fred shrugged but grabbed Ginny's hand and took her off.

Ron and Hermione also returned to the dance floor, both drenched in sweat and determined to sweat some more.

It had been a perfect night so far and Harry knew it wasn't over yet. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Ginny dancing and he wondered what Ron would say if he knew what Harry was currently doing. She seemed so graceful and confident, so much unlike the nervous little girl he once knew. He noticed she was talking to him more, he even thought she was becoming more comfortable around him.

Something popped in from his subconscious. i"She's right; it was a lot cuter when she was a little girl. I don't know what we'll do with her now that she's all grown up"...Ron's right, she's not a little girl anymore, she really is growing up/i, he found himself thinking. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to think of her as a woman instead of Ron's little sister but quickly pushed it out of his mind, determined not to think such traitorous things. Ron would kill him if he knew.

But denying it couldn't seem to stop him from watching her. Suppression of his thoughts only became all the harder to accomplish the more he watched her laughing and smiling, dancing with so full of life. He'd never felt more alive than when he was dancing with her.

Ginny was coming over to him again and he realized Fred was now dancing with his mother. "I can't stand you sitting over here by yourself, Harry," she offered him her hand for the second time that night.

Without hesitation, he accepted her hand and began to dance once again.

The End.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. I love reviews and would appreciate it very much if you would write one :)


End file.
